'Sons' tragedy set in small-town America

By Joseph T. Rozmiarek
Advertiser Drama Critic

•	'All My Sons' 7:30 p.m. Thursdays, 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 4 p.m. Sundays, through Dec. 7; no Thanksgiving show; 7:30 p.m. show on Nov. 26 Hawai'i Pacific University $18, $14, $3 375-1282

Her intimate, ensemble approach is an excellent match for Miller's work and the tiny, third-floor theater at HPU. But despite a good cast and a considerate approach to the material, this production lacks the emotional punch of her earlier productions of "Death of a Salesman" and "A View From the Bridge."

The drama is there, but it doesn't readily emerge from under all the talk.

"All My Sons" is set in small-town America of 1947 and closely follows the classic model of Greek tragedy. It takes place over 24 hours, the central character has a tragic flaw, and events that were set in motion much earlier must end in personal disaster to set things right.

The central character, Joe Keller, is a prosperous businessman who made a bundle manufacturing airplane engine parts during the war. For years he has hidden the truth that he knowingly sold a batch of cracked cylinder heads that later caused the death of several pilots.

Joe's partner took the rap.

Joe's son Larry died in the war. Now, three years later, Larry's fiancée, Ann, the daughter of his former partner, pays a visit. She intends to marry Joe's surviving son, Chris, but Joe's wife Kate insists that Larry is still alive and will return.

To prove that Larry is gone, Ann brings with her Larry's last letter, in which he reveals his knowledge of his father's crime and his intent to commit suicide. Ann's brother George also arrives, newly convinced of their father's innocence after visiting him in prison.

So "All My Sons" becomes a classic potboiler. Will Joe admit his guilt? Will Kate finally concede that Larry is dead? How will knowledge of the real facts affect Chris' relationship with his father?

Miller's protagonist in "Death of a Salesman" keeps up a brave front, but clearly is nearing the end of a spiritual downslide. Conversely, in this play, Joe Keller seems to have everything working for him, at a price — but a manageable one. When he cracks, it seems to come all at once and without much of a fight. It may be that Jim Tharp's good-guy persona is simply too effective at obscuring Joe's long-hidden guilt.

When that guilt spreads to admitting his responsibility in other deaths, the play's title emerges.

Jo Pruden plays Kate's distraction as her lead card, and the mental toll of whitewashing her husband's guilt and her son's death leaves her with no other trump in her hand.

Eric Field plays Chris with the mild manner and soft edges appropriate to a surviving son, as if he needed to apologize for his continued existence. But the portrayal doesn't give Chris the necessary edge to stand up for himself and have sufficient substance to be truly shaken by his father's truth.

Carla Rzeszewski brings a young Katherine Hepburn tone to Ann, which gives both freshness and an appropriate period feel. With Chris Veatch mostly glowering as brother George, it's ultimately Ann who emerges as the character with the strongest core.

Paul Guncheon's thoughtful set design pairs the American icons of back porch rocker and lawn chairs with outsized, sepia-toned photos of parents and children that cover the walls.